Mine
by Gnak
Summary: Serah needs to know. Lightning/Serah WARNINGS: femslash/yuri, incest


Serah's back slammed hard into the wall of the bathroom stall, and the sudden coldness of the surface against her back made her body thrum with desire; well, that and the fact that Claire's lithe, athletic hips had her pinned hard, hands ravishing her in all the places a sister's hands should never be. Claire let out an animalistic growl and maneuvered her head until she had access to her neck, where she raked her teeth across before biting into her neck, placing a territorial mark their respective dates would undoubtedly see once they returned to the dinner table.

_God_, she loved it when Claire gets like this—all jealous and bitchy and neurotic until she itched to fuck her into submission.

The slick wetness between her thighs became more than bothersome hours ago, not from Snow's discreet innuendos and provocative touches, but those watchful, possessive, zealous green eyes that flared every time she giggled at one of her boyfriend's advances. She had been baiting Claire all night (read: months); and her poor, unassuming sister finally erupted from the desire Serah so desperately wanted to know was still there.

Serah had been tuning up her sex game with Snow, giving him extra affection whenever Claire was near, hoping, wanting, and _needing _the woman to react in some way. Ever since Claire joined the Guardian Corps, they'd grown apart, and the secret nights between them came to an abrupt halt, much to Serah's dismay. She was disinclined to talk about it because—well, they never talked about _it_—and any and all suggestions she made were politely but firmly rejected. At the point when Claire had taken to physically avoiding the most innocent of her touches, Serah had felt a desperation that would soon consume her every thought. She would've done _anything_ for her—completely given everything and taken nothing in return—if only Claire would even just look at her with a hint of the same desire she used to; and of course, her older sister squandered her heart and made no signs that she was even aware of the effect she had on the younger sibling.

She took the time apart from the soldier to wonder what was wrong with her. She was old enough to know that wanting her sister to fuck her was seriously wrong in itself and using Snow to do it was leaping across the line, spitting on the other side, and taking a one-way flight to sociopathy. But the immense sexual pull toward her sister was undeniable and she couldn't ignore it if she'd been threatened to become a Cie'th for the rest of her life.

Serah was in love with Claire; and despite all efforts to fight her emotions, it was irrevocable.

And of course, she wondered and brainstormed about how Claire felt. It led her to form mental images of Claire with other girls that made her stomach wrench and her eyes pinch with tears. She had seen it before, and the blind rage she felt at seeing it had spurred more than a number of lies meant to break the relationships apart. Serah knew Claire better than anybody, though; Claire's teeth wouldn't be set into the outer shell of her ear if there was another woman. A breathy moan escaped her lips as her hands roamed her chest, torso, and lower, lower, _low_—

Thank _God_ there wasn't another floozy in the picture.

Claire's date, currently waiting at the dinner table, had only _just _met the strawberry blonde the other day, and like the rest of them, couldn't resist her green eyes and confidently polite smile when asked to dinner.

All train of thought in Serah's mind quickly began to melt away for pure feeling to take its place until—

"How _hard _does he love you, Serah?"

Serah whimpered as Claire's fingers twisted arduously inside of her, her hips becoming a shameless display of excitement and desperation, moving at a quick pace to accommodate those long, slender, strong fingers pumping in and out of her. She grabbed the back of Claire's head, running her fingers through and clasping at her unbelievable hair. Claire's hair always looked better than her's—more disheveled and consequently irresistible—and the only reason Serah didn't grow up jealous of it was because she was too busy being jealous of the girls her sister used to let touch it when they would—

She was about to come _so_ hard, when Claire pulled her fingers out, "Tell me, _Serah_," God, her voice alone made Serah writhe and rub her core hard against her thigh and she hears her choke, "How good is he that—that you had to—"

And Serah kisses her, powerfully, knowing exactly what she was about to say and refusing to hear any of it. As far as she knew, Snow didn't exist and neither did Lebreau or Yumi or Ami or _fuck_.

From then on, it would be just them two, _forever_—like Claire promised when Mom and Dad died.

She feels Claire rip her lips away; and to soothe her, Serah says, under her breath, everything she's ever wanted to say to Claire and _mean_ that she'd never gotten to or had chickened out or had forced herself not to or had been interrupted by those _awful_ girls—

"I _love_ you."

"You're _lying_."

And with that, Claire takes her again, harder than she ever as before. Three fingers enter her, without warning, and Serah can't help but yelp at the welcome intrusion into her center. Serah shakes her head, trying and ultimately failing to let her older sister know that she _wasn't _lying, and that the only one for her was Claire. She could do nothing but hope that no one else was in the restroom as she came undone in the form of whimpers and nails digging into a well-toned back. Her sister's fingers leaving her before she reached her peak earlier had pent-up the need for release between her legs, and she could feel the build up coming on even stronger this time. Claire's fingers expertly arch at exactly the right spot, move at _exactly _the right pace, twist at exactly the right moment, like she's done this so many times before, and Serah doesn't even want to think about with how many girls.

When she comes, it's an eruption of firework displays, jealous glowers, birthday parties, dangerous liaisons, and an explosive love spoken through heavy silence and heart-breaking kisses.

Serah is sure it's the best fuck she's ever had, and as soon as she comes down from it, Claire speaks about them, for the first time ever, "You _belong _to me, Serah."

And Serah can't think or process or respond to words but she _hears_ them, and that's what's important.

Lightning backs away once she's sure Serah can stand, and unlatches the handle to the stall, "_Remember_ that."

Serah's mind is blown at how fast everything just happened. She begins to feel an oncoming wave of guilt, or she will, just as soon as she recovers from her high; but she knows she can get high off Claire for hours on end.

_No_, Serah shakes her head to recover. She's done with guilt.

She'll break up with Snow tomorrow.


End file.
